Infection
by Cygnea
Summary: She was an illness he couldn't cure. [30 houshin oneshot][Tom Riddle x Usagi]


**Infection  
Theme:** #48 (sick; infection; illness)  
Written for the 30houshin LiveJournal community**  
Warning: **Some suggestive content  
**Paring:** Tom Riddle x Usagi Tsukino**  
Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership to the series or characters mentioned in this, name or implied. Both are property of their original owners and used for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

Tom's feelings for her were like a sickness. 

They were unexplainable and unreasonable, fierce and desperate, a constant, unrelenting force that left him weak and irrational.

He became flushed around her; his heart rate shot up, his mind became clouded, his limbs moved without conscious thought towards her, _always_ towards her, and pulling them back took massive amounts of willpower, was almost physically painful, was always just the opposite of what he wanted to do.

Touching her seemed to be the only cure; kissing her, caressing her, pulling her so close and holding her so tightly that it seemed she'd break or they'd merge into one person. He couldn't get enough of her; no kiss was deep enough, never long enough, their clothes were a constant hindrance that he learned to hate, there could never be enough of them touching, no matter where he kissed or where he moved his hands or how he wrapped her legs around him.

He loved her neck; he learned that touching it, pressing his lips or tongue to it, nipping at it, in just the right way made her as weak as she made him, forced her to fall against him and pant and twist, grab at him, voice faint, broke sentences, unable to decide whether she wanted him to stop or continue.

But just as touching her seemed to be the cure it seemed to worsen his disease as well; he thought of her constantly, couldn't stand to see another boy show the slightest interest in her, found himself longing for her touch or glance or smile or _just a sight of her_, waking up in the middle of the night after dreams about her that left him breathless and frustrated, angry at the both of them and wishing he could simply keep her around all the time, always close by his side where he needed her.

They never had enough time together; classes were useless for anything besides quick, sly touches, meaningful looks, carefully worded phrases layered with innuendo that were missed by anyone but the two of them. He learned her schedule by heart and began catching her whenever there was a good opening; between classes, during breaks, pulling her into empty classrooms, deserted hallways, secret passages, anywhere and everywhere that guaranteed them a few moments alone together.

He had little care for what others thought; while they didn't flaunt their relationship, kept it quiet, private, he had once given her his scarf, wrapped it around her neck and told her to wear it the rest of the day, taking a perverse sort of delight in the sight of Hufflepuff displaying Slythernin colors. It only deepened when he saw the way other boys glance between them, knowing they were beaten, that any chances they made have had were now completely and utterly ruined, crushed into the dirt where they belonged, the worthless desires of people beneath her, beneath _him_.

Some illnesses had to get worse before they got better; they required the victim to stay strong, to ride out the storm, to cling to life for however long it took before finally disappearing, having been beaten or outlast. Others were violent and short-lived; the pain was terrible, the fevers high, but after a few days they dispersed as though having never existed at all, even the memories dim and fading. A few were lasted a lifetime; unable to be cured or found they existed within the patient, either killing them slowly or doing nothing but causing inconvenience.

Tom did not know what type of sickness had hold on him or how long it would last; whether it would burn out within a year or if he'd suffer with it for the rest of his life, cursed to depend on her as his only source of respite, growing more and more dependent on her with each passing day.

He did not know and he did not care; she had infected him.

* * *

Any and all comments are welcome. 


End file.
